There’s something that makes a weird ticking sound at night when I’m lying in bed, awake, while the rest of my family is either dreaming about potatoes if you were my older brother.
Sleeping with her eyes open and still blinking if you were my dog. Chest rising and falling peacefully if you were my mom, my dad, my younger brother, and my younger sister.
That ticking sound is in perfect rhythm every night. Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick. But tonight, instead of listening to that perfect tick and waiting for my eyelids to drop down, I’m going to investigate.
As I pull down my covers and sit up, the ticking gets just slightly louder.
“Hmmm.” I stood up in bed and the ticking, although it got just a little bit louder, was unmistakably louder. I turn my head up, my nose just slightly brushing the ceiling, creases are shaping a rectangle, and I push it. Ccccrrrreeeeaaakkkk. I push it harder.
CCCCRRRRREEEEAAAAKKKK. I push it even harder and suddenly dust spills over my face, some in my eyes.
I rush to the bathroom and open the faucet lever and wet a towel. I rubbed the towel over my face and almost forgot to turn off the water as I rushed back to my bed. A pile of dust had formed in the middle of my bed and a few dust bunnies were on the floor. I put on a mask and swim goggles. I peeked into the rectangular opening with the rectangular lid helplessly draping off, it was very dark. I got a flashlight from one of my cabinets and shone it into the opening, the ticking was still going on. Then, there it was, an old French brass.
It seemed like all the secrets of life had been answered for me. I decided to leave it there. It could probably sell for a few thousand dollars, but I liked it there, nice, safe, and always ticking.
Sleeping with her eyes open and still blinking if you were my dog. Chest rising and falling peacefully if you were my mom, my dad, my younger brother, and my younger sister.
That ticking sound is in perfect rhythm every night. Tick tick tick tick tick tick tick. But tonight, instead of listening to that perfect tick and waiting for my eyelids to drop down, I’m going to investigate.
As I pull down my covers and sit up, the ticking gets just slightly louder.
“Hmmm.” I stood up in bed and the ticking, although it got just a little bit louder, was unmistakably louder. I turn my head up, my nose just slightly brushing the ceiling, creases are shaping a rectangle, and I push it. Ccccrrrreeeeaaakkkk. I push it harder.
CCCCRRRRREEEEAAAAKKKK. I push it even harder and suddenly dust spills over my face, some in my eyes.
I rush to the bathroom and open the faucet lever and wet a towel. I rubbed the towel over my face and almost forgot to turn off the water as I rushed back to my bed. A pile of dust had formed in the middle of my bed and a few dust bunnies were on the floor. I put on a mask and swim goggles. I peeked into the rectangular opening with the rectangular lid helplessly draping off, it was very dark. I got a flashlight from one of my cabinets and shone it into the opening, the ticking was still going on. Then, there it was, an old French brass.
It seemed like all the secrets of life had been answered for me. I decided to leave it there. It could probably sell for a few thousand dollars, but I liked it there, nice, safe, and always ticking.
